


Perfect Summer Day

by FennecFoundaPencil, justasp0rk



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Boys Being Boys, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, The Hammock (IT), a lil angst, but like. blink and youll miss it, guys being dudes, if we're not your faves, its soft, its summer, lets go, well. rude, your fave coauthors are at it again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FennecFoundaPencil/pseuds/FennecFoundaPencil, https://archiveofourown.org/users/justasp0rk/pseuds/justasp0rk
Summary: The Losers spend an afternoon in their clubhouse. Eddie and Richie fight over the hammock, Stan questions his choice of friends, Beverly smokes while Ben pines, Eddie kisses Richie...Yup, a completely normal afternoon in their clubhouse.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 113





	Perfect Summer Day

**Author's Note:**

> yes two people wrote this. no we did not spellcheck. we die like men.

It was a perfect summer day, children in the streets playing with their friends and running through sprinklers while teenagers caused a ruckus in their homes. The breeze was light enough to not disturb anyone, and the heat was just below unbearable.

Truly the perfect summer day. 

And the Losers were all 6 feet under in their clubhouse, music blasting loud enough to scare the birds and smoke pouring out of the little holes in the ceiling Ben had made for Richie and Beverly. In fact, the heat in the clubhouse  _ was  _ unbearable, each and every fan on while the Losers talked over one another.

So for them it was more than the perfect summer day. It was the  _ ideal  _ summer day.

Except for the fact Richie had been on the hammock for over an hour, and Eddie refused to sit on the dirty floor no matter how many times Stan cleaned it. It was bad enough it smelt like cigarettes and alcohol because of the Trashmouth, and now he was hogging it? They had a  _ rule  _ when it came to the hammock!

One that Richie loved to hate when reading his comics, Stan after all these years still trying to shove a shower cap on his friends head. 

Eddie tapped his foot insistently against the ground, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. He glanced at the other Losers before stomping over to the hammack and standing over Richie with a scowl. He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. 

“Richie, your times up,” 

The lanky teen lowered his comic with a grin, Stan already having stomped off with a huff and shouting at Bill for letting Richie down here still. "You finally gonna kill me, Eds? Pow me just like your western shows?" He whipped off his glasses, putting on a sort of cop Voice. "You're not taking me today, Edward, dead or alive." 

“Richie just shut up and move, I swear!” Eddie leaned down, the action causing no reaction beside a raising of Richie’s eyebrows. “I will  _ hurt  _ you,” 

"And  _ I _ ," Richie retorted, placing the comic carefully behind him on a rack that he had bought for the clubhouse just last year. He settled further into the hammock, glasses placed back on his nose with his middle finger sliding them into place. "Will be taking a nap, Eddio," 

Eddie huffed, furrowing his brows further. He looked Richie up and down then straightened his back. “Your shirt’s ugly, and your pants are stupid,” 

His friend peeked an eye open at that, frowning. "You said you liked this shirt," Richie sat up, holding out the gaudy fabric. The usual Hawaiian style but a size too small, since the size up looked like a blanket and not a shirt. Eddie had helped him pick it out. "Hey, wait, no! You said you liked this shirt! What's wrong with this shirt?"

"Everything!" Beverly called past the other Losers chatter, giggling. Richie flipped her off.

"You love my shirts, Bevvie-Boop, can it!" 

“I don’t like it anymore!” Eddie explained, huffing once more. “Now move!” 

"No!" Richie turned back to him, grabbing his wrist. "What's wrong with the shirt my love? I'll never wear it again!" He crossed his fingers over his chest. "Absolutely swear it! Happy wife, happy life, ya ever heard the saying?" 

“I’m not your wife Richie! I just said your shirt’s ugly to get you out of the hammock, now  _ move, _ ” Eddie tried to pull his arm back but Richie didn’t let go. Instead, he just pulled him forward, smirk that was gone for a few blessed moments already back.

"We can share, Eddio! Husband and wife share everything, so we should share the hammock!" He made obnoxious kissing faces toward his friend, which only made him wrinkle his nose and stick his tongue out in disgust. 

“Fuck off Richie, I’m not getting in the hammock with you, in fact, I don’t wanna get in it at all now that you’ve infected it,” 

Richie laughed with a snort, letting go of Eddie before licking his finger and touching the side of the hammock with it, the dramatics enough to fit in a Hollywood film. "Has been for a  _ while _ , Eddio Spaghettio, don't see the problem!" He wagged his eyebrows. "I mean, back when me and Sandy were together, we'd come down here-" 

“Ew!” Eddie interrupted. “I do  _ not  _ need to hear about your sex life,” Eddie spun around, moving to walk away from the hammock when he felt arms wrap around his waist and pull him back. Eddie turned and pushed Richie’s chest back and the boy laughed, not letting go. The hammock swung back and forth as the two began to roughhouse, Richie trying to pull Eddie into the hammock and Eddie trying to both get away and pull Richie out of it. 

“Guys!” Ben called. “Please don’t break the hammock!” 

"Ju-Just have them rebuild it like luh-luh-last time," Eddie heard Bill suggest, to which Ben just groaned and grumbled something under his breath.

"If I'm breaking the hammock I'lll be doing Mrs. K, sorry to break it to ya Haystack!" Richie kissed Eddie's cheek with a burst of a laugh, still lifting him up to try and pull him in. Eddie sputtered and hit his shoulder, wiggling harder to get away. 

“Gross! You probably gave me AIDs Richie!” 

"Then we're going down together!" He announced. "Imagine the romance, Eds! Us two, laying in separate hospital beds, me sneaking over to suck you off before you flatline-" 

Eddie grabbed Richie’s face, fully preparing for the boy to push him away as he pushed forward and tried to kiss him in revenge. 

Richie didn’t push him away. 

In fact, their lips connected before Eddie’s eyes flew open and he stumbled back, covering his mouth with his hand. 

“Why’d you let me do that!” He yelled, cheeks burning red. The other Losers turned at the sudden change in pitch, chatter dying down. 

Richie's hand was pressed against his mouth, bug eyes staring at Eddie with a beet red face. "I did- I didn't!- I di-did-" He laughed, the sound forced and nervous as he looked down. "Holy sh-shit," 

“I’m sorry! Ithoughtyouweregonnapushmeaway!” Eddie’s voice was higher than ever, he only ever got this riled up over health issues, serious health issues. 

"I didn't think you were gonna do that!" Richie retaliated, still laughing. It was the kind of laugh he'd use when talking about how Bowers broke his nose, or snapped his glasses in two. It definitely drew worry from their friends, the mixture of that laugh and Eddie's voice. Eddie could feel his heart sink to his feet. 

_ God, Richie hated it.  _

He shrank in on himself, shoulders tightening. “I’mreallysorry!” 

"Woah, whuh-whats happening?"

"Nothing!" Richie shouted. "Nothing at all is happening and didn't your mother teach you it was rude to stare Bill because it's pretty rude to stare Bill I mean we didn't  _ invite  _ you to stare so I really don't think you should be d-d-duh-" He hit the side of his head. " _ Doing  _ that!" 

Beverly frowned. "Rich has a stutter?"

"I do not! Don't spread rumors! Also rude!" 

Eddie pulled out his inhaler, taking a huff before forcing a smile and giving the losers a thumbs up. “We’re all good, just uh, normal us stuff, yeah, totally,” 

Mike raised an eyebrow at him. “Ya sure Eddie?”

“Yep!” Eddie winced at the sound of his own voice cracking.

"EDDIEKISSEDME," 

" _ RICHIE," _

"STAN, BEVERLY, MEETING." Richie vaulted up from the hammock, words muffled since his hand was still widely covering his mouth as he made it for the exit. Stan and Beverly exchanged a glance before both looking shocked, then like something was widely obvious.

Still, they followed him. 

“What!” Eddie exclaimed. “Whythehelldoyouhavetohaveameetingthisisbetweenusitsnotevenabigdealitwasanaccident,”

Mike blinked, slowly holding up his hands. “Eddie I don’t think anyone could understand that.

"I-I got it," Bill assured, pushing himself up from the stool he was sitting on to walk over to Eddie. With a slight pause, Ben and Mike followed behind him. "Euh-Eddie, thuh-those three always huh-have dumb muh-meetings." He smiled. "Huh-He's probably juh-just trying to figure out a wuh-way to get you back."

"How did he get that…?" Ben mumbled. 

“He hates me Bill,” Eddie stammered, eyes starting to water. He wiped at his face. “It was an accident, I promise,” Bill instantly stopped smiling and looked between Mike and Ben, to which the taller nodded and went for the exit.

"Eddie, thuh-thuh-theres no way he huh-hates you," Bill started.

"Yeah!" Ben piped in. "Richie kisses you all the time, he was just surprised!" 

Eddie sniffled. “But-He’s gonna think I’m, uh, a,” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “A homo, and he’ll hate me,” 

Ben put a hand on Eddie's shoulder, trying to console him like Richie would. "Hey, Rich makes fun of everyone, doesn't mean he actually hates them."

"If auh-anything, Richie is a homo, Euh-Eddie," 

Eddie let out a light laugh. “Yeah,” 

Bill smiled reassuringly. “Yuh-yeah, now c’mon,” He ruffled Eddie’s hair. “Its Ruh-Richie, he doesn’t huh-hate you,” 

Eddie was just about to take a deep breath and thank Bill and Ben before he heard the clubhouse door being thrown open and someone jumping down onto the wood panel below.

"Eds-  _ FUCK _ , ow, okay,  _ shit! _ " Eddie glanced over Bill's shoulder to see Richie, hair as wild as ever, slightly limping toward him while Beverly, Stan, and Mike climbed down the ladder. Bill smiled at Mike, who gave him a thumbs up. 

"Eds!" Richie nearly shouldered Bill out of the way, but didn't have to, considering the teen moved aside the moment he saw Richie back in the clubhouse. He gently grabbed Eddie's face with both his hands, already wiping away his tears. "Eddie, hey, no, don't cry!" 

Eddie moved his hands away with a pout, turning away. “I’m not crying,” 

"Yeah, okay, you're not crying," Richie still cupped his face, trying to get him to face him again. "So don't make that face? I'm not mad at you or anything, I didn't mind it!" He snorted, finally getting brown eyes to meet blue. "You sure you're my Eddie Spaghetti if you think I could hate you?" 

“I didn’t think that!” Eddie retorted, blush deepening. “I don’t care what you think,” The boy lowered his voice to a mutter. “Stupid Trashmouth,” 

"Not as stupid as thinking I'd get mad for something I do all the time," Richie retorted, snickering. "Thought you were smart, Eds! What happened?"

"Richie called us up to cheer," Beverly said, Stan gawking at her. "Trust me, he didn't mind."

Besides the brunette turning slightly darker at the cheeks he didn't seem all that bothered by what she said. "You finally fought back!" He rushed out. Beverly rolled her eyes with a smile. "Worth cheering for, Eds!" 

“Oh,” Eddie said quietly before snorting. “You weirdo,” 

"Yup," Richie muttered, his shoulders relaxing as he looked at Eddie in a way that made his chest stir. "Complete weirdo, all day and all the time. Tough work, really is Eddie, my love." 

Eddie laughed. “Okay Rich,” His eyes darted to the side then he smirked, pushing away from Richie. “Hammocks open!” 

"Room for two!" Richie loudly called, making Eddie yelp when he scooped him up and barreled straight for the hammock, though Eddie couldn't help but notice he still had a limp.

"And they're back," Stan mumbled, but he was smiling. "Someone turn up the music! I don't wanna hear them yelling," 

Beverly turned to the others, smiling. She held up her pointer finger. “We make our bets now, I bet they marry,” 

"Live together until they die but never make anything official," Mike chirped.

"This is  _ Richie  _ we're talking about," Ben motioned to the two. "He's putting a ring on that."

Richie jumped/clambered into the hammock with Eddie, laughing so hard his glasses were knocked askew.

Bill crossed his arms. “They’re never guh-gonna do anything about it,”

Stan shrugged. “I don’t know Bill, at least one of them is gonna notice what’s going on by our senior year of high school."

"They're too dumb to figure out everything in three years," Mike said. "I mean that with all the love in my heart."

“If they don’t, they wuh-won’t do anything,” Bill pointed out. “They’ll both muh-move like idiots,”

Beverly leaned over to Ben, whispering into his ear. “They’re totally gonna get married, I don’t see those two ever not being inseparable,” 

Ben nodded. "Even if they do move away I doubt Richie will even date anyone."

Beverly laughed, Ben's ears going hot at the sound. "You're probably right, he's an idiot."

" _ Eds!"  _ Richie called, the hammock still swinging. "Don't kick me!" 

Beverly sighed. “Growing up together and staying together, it's so romantic,”

“Not really,” Stan commented. “I’d rather not marry any of you,” 

"Thuh-Then don't, Stan."

"Thank you for your permission."

Mike leaned against one of the beams of the clubhouse, arms crossed as he looked away from Eddie and Richie and back to the other Losers. "Whoever wins Monopoly gets to tell them they're gonna get married?" 

“That’s no prize,” Stan droned. 

"Oh it  _ definitely  _ is," Beverly argued, putting out her cigarette and sliding past Ben to grab the board game from atop one of their half built shelves. 

“I think Richie thinks they’re already married,” Ben commented, genuine. “Eddie’s never mentioned a crush, he’s never had competition,” 

"Let's hope he never does," Stan commented. "I don't want to deal with a heartbroken Rich."

Bill watched as Richie and Eddie maneuvered around the hammock so that they could lay side by side and read their comic together, Eddie's head rested on Richie's shoulder with a smile he had never shared with any of the other Losers before. He smiled.

"I thuh-think wuh-wuh-we'll be fine." 

“I wanna be the little dog!”

“Hey! I want the dog,”

“I don’t care just hand me one,”

“Stan could you please scoot over,”

“HEY THAT’S MINE!” 

The clubhouse descended into the bickering that everyone was used to, laughter bubbling out of the teens when pieces were thrown, and even more yelling rising up when the game actually started. Richie and Eddie still laid together in the hammock, in their own little world while they reread a comic they had nearly torn to pieces with their carelessness over the years while they tried to cuddle even closer, though neither boy would admit it.

It was unbearably hot in the clubhouse, Eddie had cried and Richie had sprained his ankle, and the Losers club was nearly disbanded over a game of monopoly only half an hour into the game. 

It was the perfect summer day. 


End file.
